


Thunderstroke

by anthemXIX



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthemXIX/pseuds/anthemXIX
Summary: Storm clouds over the sea spur unwanted memories, and Legend finds safe harbor where he least expects it.
Relationships: Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 141





	Thunderstroke

Gentle blue-green waves poured over powdery white sands. Long-legged sea birds waded through the foam, and crabs scuttled over kelp-draped rocks. The sun-soaked afternoon breeze made palm fronds sway in tempo with the ocean.

The latest portal had dropped the heroes in a paradise, and Legend hated it.

Wind, in contrast, brimmed with ecstasy, immediately kicking off his boots and beelining for the surf as he shouted, “The beach!”

Legend sighed and nudged Hyrule with his elbow. “You think we could go back and wait for a different portal? Maybe Hylia will send us a better option.”

On Legend’s other side, Warriors rolled his eyes. “Only you could come up with a way to complain about a place like this. It’s gorgeous here.”

“I’m just…not a fan of the ocean.” Legend ruefully watched the portal wink out existence. They were officially stranded.

“That’s unfortunate,” Four said, “because it looks like we’re going to be here awhile.”

Legend followed Four’s gaze to see that the beach backed up to sheer, smooth bluffs. Scaling them safely would be challenging if not impossible, and there were no throughways in sight.

“Fantastic,” Legend muttered.

“I’m sure we can find a way inland,” Time said as he studied the cliffs. “We’ll just have to explore a little.”

“Or we could just stay on the beach,” Wild suggested, clearly itching to join the Sailor’s antics in the surf. “We could take a day off.”

“We’ll see.” Time ignored Wild’s pout and motioned for the others to follow him as he started to walk.

“You really don’t like it here?” Hyrule asked Legend as they fell into stride with each other. The Traveler’s eyes sparkled, mimicking the sun’s glitter on the sea. “I never knew places this beautiful existed. I could stay here forever.”

Legend folded his arms and pointedly stared at the cliffs.

The farther they meandered, the more relaxed the group became. Their progress slowed. Wild shed his hood and boots to frolic with Wind; Hyrule wasn’t far behind. Even Time seemed less tense and less vigilant as he engaged Twilight in leisurely conversation. Yet Legend only grew more anxious, his shoulders stiffening and frown deepening with every step.

He was entirely homed in on the bluffs, scouring them for any indication of an escape route, when some commotion ahead drew his attention. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule had gathered around what he supposed was a raft. Frayed rope clinched a few logs together, and a lilting mast hoisted a patched-up sail. It was a shoddy contraption that in no way appeared sea-worthy.

“This kind of looks like one from my Hyrule,” Wild was saying as he tapped at his Sheikah Slate. A Korok Leaf materialized in his hand.

“What do you do with that?” the Traveler asked, leaning in curiously.

“No, no, we should use my Deku Leaf,” Wind cut in, holding up the item in question. “We’ll go so much farther with this!”

“And faster!” Wild added.

Wind bounded over to Time, pulling his best puppy eyes as he entreated, “Can we try out the raft? Please?”

“I suppose we have time for a little break,” Time mused.

Legend’s stomach somersaulted as Wind whooped.

“Old Man, there’s no way that thing is safe,” the Vet said. “Who knows how long it’s been out here rotting?”

Twilight stepped up to the raft, nudging it with his toes. “Seems solid enough. Should hold up just fine, even for these maniacs.”

“What do you know about it?” Legend snapped. “And what if it _doesn’t_ hold up? The Cook is a weak swimmer, and the Traveler can’t swim at all.”

“We won’t go out too far,” Wild said. He turned back to Wind and Hyrule. “And we can start off slow.”

The trio pushed the raft into ankle-deep water before piling on. With a few pumps of Wild’s Korok Leaf, they were zipping up the coastline.

“That is _not_ slow!” Legend groused.

“They’ve all had experience with rafts,” Sky said, offering a placating smile. “They’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” Time agreed. “Let them have their fun.”

Legend could only gape. Time and Twilight’s protective instincts had kicked in over far less, but they were fine letting the least responsible members of their party…navigate an unknown ocean…on some rickety, Goddess-forsaken raft…propelled by a _leaf_?

Warriors would purposely fuel his agitation for a laugh regardless of his actual opinion on the matter, Legend was sure, so he looked to Four as his last hope for reason.

“I agree with you,” Four said, “but there’s no stopping them now.” He raised a diffident eyebrow at Legend’s glower.

“Joining the ranks of the buzzkill brigade, eh, Vet?” Warriors quipped, gesturing to Time and Twilight. The latter leveled him with an unamused stare. “There’s nothing to get worked up over. The raft is safe. Don't you trust the Sailor's ability to assess that?"

“I trust what I saw,” Legend argued. “I trust my instincts. That thing is not safe, and they shouldn't have gone out there.”

“I think you’re picking a fight because you’re cranky,” Warriors dismissed. “Although I still don’t understand why. This is the best place a portal has taken us yet.”

The others nodded their assent, and Sky asked, “What is it about the beach you don’t like, Vet?”

At least Sky had the decency to falter under his glare. Legend turned away from the group. “You know what? I’ll go over here to wait for the idiots to return.”

He stalked to some palm trees lining the cliffs, thumping down irritably onto a fallen trunk. With arms crossed tight, he ignored the curious gazes of his companions and the far-off, playful shouts of the morons on the raft, opting instead to scowl at his sand-covered boots. Why was everyone behaving so irrationally? Didn't they see the risk of letting those fools go out there on such a rinkydink excuse for a vessel?

The Vet sat stooped and rigid until his neck and shoulders ached. When he finally decided to look up, he saw the others had hunkered down near the surf, totally calm, chatting amiably. The raft was far down the coastline, although it was close to shore. They were sticking to the shallows, at least.

The small comfort of that thought was promptly erased when Legend noticed the sky. Brilliant cobalt had dulled to undead grey; fluffy wisps of clouds had expanded and darkened. Legend's breath hitched.

A storm was imminent.

He _knew_ this was a bad idea. Why hadn't anyone listened to him? That raft was no match for storm-churned waves.

Fixated on the burgeoning black clouds, he hardly registered someone approaching him.

“Vet?” Warriors said. “You okay?”

“Like you care,” Legend mumbled absently. He was suddenly gripped by a strange discomfort, as if his skin didn’t fit quite right, and he started to jiggle his leg like he could shake off the sensation.

To his annoyance, the Captain sat down next to him and leaned forward, elbows on knees. This jerk was the last person Legend was in the mood to deal with. “What do you want, Pretty Boy?”

“Just checking on you. You’ve been over here brooding for a while.”

“Checking on me? Sure. Why are you _actually_ here? Can’t you harass someone else for once?”

Legend hated the thoughtful way the Captain studied him, with the same expression he sported when he observed a battlefield and formulated strategies.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Warriors said carefully, “but you can, if you want.”

Legend's pulse started picking up its pace; a nervous adrenaline thrummed through his veins. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever is bothering you.” The clouds began to pall the sun, and the lack of light muted the colors around them, fogging the world with grey.

“That would be you.”

Warriors didn’t rise to the bait. “No, something is wrong. You don’t look well.”

“I'm fine. Look, don’t you think we should call them back before it rains?”

“Before it rains?”

“Yeah.”

“…What makes you think it’s going to rain?” the Captain asked.

“The storm clouds, obviously,” Legend snapped. “Seriously, did that portal warp all your brains or something?”

At first, the Captain didn’t answer, but Legend didn’t care. He was preoccupied with the sensation of his chest shrinking, of his lungs struggling to fully expand.

“What storm clouds?” Warriors finally asked.

“What the hell do you mean? They’re right there! Practically on top of us!”

Warriors frowned, hesitating. “I don’t see any storm clouds.”

An icy lump clogged Legend’s throat, preventing any snarky retorts. Not that any came to him; his brain felt clogged, too, words stuck in sludge and unable to bind together into coherent thoughts.

The sky heaved and split apart and spit a torrent of rain. Sopping hair flattened against the back of his neck, and water pooled inside his boots. Uncomfortable as it was, the rain brought a measure of relief. For one horrific moment, he had wondered if the storm clouds were imagined, a hallucinatory projection of his anxiety, yet here was undeniable proof that this was real.

He turned to chew out the asshole Captain for trying to gaslight him, but there was no one there. It was only the sea, slate-grey and heartless, throwing its weight around wildly like a bucking horse. Thunder exploded, making his eardrums smart and bones rattle. His hands were chafing and red from his grip on the ropes as he desperately tried to balance his boat on rebellious waves.

Lightning cracked into the ocean right in front of him, setting the night temporarily ablaze. Legend’s heart pummeled his ribcage like it was trying to flee, and his breaths were too shallow, but he steeled himself. He had to focus on keeping his boat afloat. His life depended on it.

A blinding implosion of light shredded him to pieces, injected him with fire, incited an instant of agony so profound that he blacked out—but the shock of frigid water resuscitated him. He gasped and sucked in saltwater, yet primal instinct overrode logic and he gasped again, desperate to breathe, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t _breathe_ , he was underwater and he was going to drown, and spasms wracked his flaming muscles, and his heart palpitated and stuttered—

“Link. Can you hear me? Can you tell me what’s happening?”

His eyes snapped open, and he expected them to sting, but they didn't. Refracted through the water's surface, a lightning bolt zigzagged above him, and he clawed his way upwards, frantically kicking and flailing. His hand collided with a solid object that he couldn't properly see in the dark, but he assumed it was debris from his boat. He latched onto it, digging in his nails, and used it to buoy himself up.

Breaching the surface at last, he violently coughed out seawater, the salt burning his throat. Titanic waves tried to smother him, sloshing more water into his mouth. He still couldn't tell what he was holding, but it didn't matter. Its weight in his fist felt grounding within the chaos, so he clutched it all the harder, refusing to let the wayward waves tear it away.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s wrong.”

That voice again. Who was it? Was a deity speaking to him? Did it matter? The voice shone like a beacon, warm and clear through the bedlam, and without other options, he chose to engage it.

“D-d-drowning,” he managed.

“You’re in the ocean?”

Somehow through the darkness he spotted splintered wedges of his vessel bobbing in the waves, and he desperately paddled towards them like they were his salvation.

“Link, please listen to me. You feel like you’re in the ocean, but you’re not. You’re here with me, and we’re on land. Can you feel it beneath your boots? Solid ground?”

What? He kicked and kicked, and no, it was only water under his feet, but he was almost to that piece of wood, just a little farther, just a _little_ farther—

“Can you feel the sand?”

Something impossibly dry and dusty flaked across his hand, and he flinched and looked down. There was sand in his fist, but how? Where did it come from? Grains of sand, dribbling between the fingers of one hand. He threw it aside, continuing to swim, other hand still clinging to the mystery object.

“We’re on land. We’re not in the ocean.”

How preposterous! He was in the ocean, clearly; for Nayru’s sake, he was on the brink of _drowning_ and— With another flash of lightning, shivers seized his body, relighting the terrible fire that gnawed on his insides.

“Burns,” he gasped in surprise.

“Burns? What burns? What’s happening now?”

“Before,” he tried to explain against the lashing downpour, the sloshing waves. “Lightning.”

“Lightning...? You were…hit? By lightning?”

“My boat,” he choked out, and he realized he was crying. He rubbed at his eyes and found he was wet not from the rain, not from the ocean, but from tears slicking his cheeks. He blinked and blinked again and found himself sitting, doubled over, staring at his own boots half-buried in sand. Land. How was he on land?

“Okay. That’s done now. You’re safe. There’s no storm. No lightning.”

He watched his tears dampen the dry ground. He felt exhausted from swimming, but— Had he been swimming? And who was he talking to? What the hell was happening? His chest hurt, his throat hurt, his head hurt. He felt dizzy and dazed. The tears wouldn’t stop.

“Link? Are you with me? You see the sand?”

Sand. Yes. He jammed his fingers into the grains, and yes, it was sand, and he was on land. It was dry, and he was dry.

“Yes. You see that? You see the tree you’re sitting on?”

He saw the palm tree trunk, felt its ridges cutting into his skin through his tunic. He blinked, over and over, trying to clear the grey from his vision, and sunlight chased off the stormy dark. His tunic was red, not the green one he had worn on the boat. He wasn’t on the boat. Hadn't been in years. No, the boat was years ago.

“Good. That’s very good. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you feel your breath?”

Yes, he could. He inhaled deeply, and the air came unimpeded, expanding his lungs without issue. His heart had ceased its galloping, winding down to its usual pace, its usual rhythm.

“Do you remember where we are, Link?”

He was on a beach. Not _that_ beach by _that_ ocean, just some nowhere beach. He hadn’t come by boat, but through a portal. Not alone, but with the other heroes.

He glanced at the fist still clutching the solid object, and it took him a moment to recognize it as someone else’s hand. Oh, Hylia. He loosened his grip, but couldn’t completely wrench his fingers free.

“It’s okay.” Another hand wrapped around his, holding it where it lay. “Can you look at me?”

He followed the hand to the wrist to the arm and shoulder and saw blue, a blue so rich it startled him, as if getting lost in that grey world had stolen his memory of the color. A lot of blue, a crinkled and silky fabric. A scarf.

“That’s good, Link,” the Captain said. “You’re doing well.”

Legend swallowed, throat parched. He felt Warriors’ hands radiating body heat, could feel the other's breath feathering his bangs if he concentrated, and he held his gaze on the scarf. Blue, a striking blue, like the cloudless sky behind it.

“Vet,” Legend corrected. His voice crackled like droughted earth. “Not…Link. Weird. From you.”

“Vet, then. I’m glad you’re back with me.”

Warriors ran his thumb across Legend’s knuckles, back and forth, back and forth, and Legend tried to process what was happening. He should feel embarrassed to have cried in front of anyone, much less the Captain. But he was too exhausted to be embarrassed or concern himself with the future, and instead he chose to focus on the soothing motion, on the consolation of human touch.

“Are you okay?” Warriors softly asked.

“Tired,” Legend admitted. His body tingled with phantom pains, and he wasn’t sure if they originated from the past or the present.

“That’s okay. We’re just going to rest here awhile. Is that okay?”

“Okay.”

Focusing on the thumb caressing his hand, Legend closed his eyes and let himself drift beneath the warm blanket of tropical sunshine.

Whether he passed minutes or hours in that state, he couldn’t tell, but at some point, the soothing movement stilled. 

“Vet,” Warriors said, voice low, “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here.”

He didn’t answer. The Captain squeezed his hand and released it, and the loss of contact jostled a deeply interred sorrow that he put aside. From his lethargic daze, he watched Warriors walk over to the others, and— Legend’s eyes flickered over each hero. Seven. Behind them was the raft, intact. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule bubbled with joy, dry and safe among the rest of their companions.  
  
Wars tugged Time aside to talk. After the Captain said his piece, the Old Man nodded sagely and started corralling the others, shooing them further down the beach. A couple of them looked his way, and he looked back, expressionless. He couldn’t manage more. Didn’t even know what the “more” would be.

As promised, Warriors returned, situating himself on the fallen tree much closer to Legend than before. The Vet attempted to dredge himself from his stupor.

“What did you tell him?” Legend murmured, voice syrupy and drab. 

“That they should go on, and we would catch up.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else.” Legend tried to muster a skeptical look, and Warriors grinned. “I didn’t! What else would I have said?”

“Something like ‘the Vet had a mental breakdown and I have to coddle him better?’” 

Quickly, the grin disappeared. “You didn’t have a mental breakdown, and no one’s coddling anyone.”

“What else would you call vividly hallucinating thunderstorms?” Legend said, because that’s what it had been, like before. A lifelike creation of his mind. Perhaps this wasn’t a mental break after all, since his tether to reality was already tattered.

“I’d call it a flashback,” Warriors replied. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen my fair share of soldiers reliving the past like that.”

A flashback... Legend was briefly curious if the Captain had ever experienced any himself, but decided not to ask. He didn’t want to envision such a thing.

“I’m not a soldier, though,” Legend murmured.

Warriors shrugged. “So? Don’t minimize it, Vet. There’s no shame in it. Has that happened before?”

“Not quite like that, no.” Legend drew his knees to his chest. “Not something that felt so real.”

After a beat, the Captain said, “I’m sorry. I should have realized something was wrong much sooner. I acted like a jackass.”

The apology surprised him. He wasn’t sure how to respond and so went with an awkward, “Not your fault…”

“No, I should have recognized sooner what was happening. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s... Don’t... Ugh.” Legend looked away. “I appreciate that…you’re helping me…”

“You’d do the same for me.”

The confidence of the assertion jarred him. Legend glanced over at Warriors, who was placidly staring out at the calm sea, who was sitting with him here instead of enjoying a rest with the others, who had held his hand without judgment or a second thought, who wasn’t pressing him to share any explanation. Who trusted him. 

Legend had to avert his gaze again. “Thank you. Really.”

Warriors grinned and tousled Legend’s hair, nearly displacing his cap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Vet.”

Legend feigned a scowl, which only brightened Warriors' expression. Glancing down the beach, the Vet saw that the others, in their slow progress, weren’t that far away. He nodded towards them. “Shall we?”

They stood and strolled down the beach side-by-side. After a minute, Warriors reached over and grasped his hand; Legend yanked it away, scandalized. “What are you doing?”

“Just wanted to see if hand-holding would be a regular thing now. Guess not.”

Legend scowled for real, flushing. Seriously? Was he getting mocked? Had he misjudged the whole vibe of this situation?

Warriors laughed. “I’m teasing you.”

Oh. Well then. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Legend muttered, crossing his arms. “Get out of here with that nonsense, Pretty Boy.”

“Sorry, Vet, you’re stuck with me,” Warriors said cheerily. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Legend floundered. The warmth on his cheeks was vexingly pleasant this time. “Fine. Whatever. But if you try to hold my hand again, I _will_ break your nose.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Throughout the remainder of the heroes’ adventure, Warriors jokingly grabbed Legend’s hand many more times, yet no noses were broken.


End file.
